Caring

The moment she looked into his eyes and saw death looking back at her

She knew

She knew that she couldn’t handle bonding with a beautiful soul

Only to lose him too soon

 

Once again

 

Over and over it has been that way

 

Caregiving

 

At first it was easy to compartmentalize the feelings

But now they spill out

Black humour no longer works to take the edge off

Instead too many edges have worked their way under her skin

To the point where occupational trauma raises emotional welts

 

She forces the mask back on

The one with the forced smile and bright eyes

Manages to get through one more shift

Only by knowing that tomorrow she’ll see the doctor again

And she’ll go on stress leave

 

Again

 

Because she knows that everything is so tightly bound

And if she has to wear that mask one more time

She’ll shatter

Into a million pieces that will never find peace

And if that happens

There’ll be no more caring

For her

 

 

David Trudel    ©  2013

 

 

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Caring

  1. You left me breathless but with a pounding heart. BEAUTIFUL!

    • Thanks – this came from a conversation with a dear friend of mine who is emotionally fragile after 30 years or so of caregiving. Glad you saw the beauty in the pain.

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